A Star in the Night
by DeltaBlairLines
Summary: Skye: a global organization with countless members, all with the same goal: delivering justice when the government doesn't. The Team: a group of heroes who, more or less, work for the government. Clearly, the two weren't meant to get along. Too bad that's not what fate wants. Rated T but has moments of M. M moments are labelled.
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING:** Mentions of sexual activities and swearing. Étoile is very in touch with her sexuality and both her and Declan swear a lot, so if you're uncomfortable with that, this may not be the best story for you.

* * *

 _Jump, grapple, swing, tuck and roll._

 _Land behind. Approach._

 _Kick to back, turn, shatter knee. Move forward. Punch, punch, back up._

 _Grab arm. Twist. Harder._

 _Regain grip. Throw._

It was almost boring, this take down of simple criminals. When she had first been assigned to a mission in Gotham, she had expected more experienced fighters. Instead, they ended up being irritations, too far below her in skill to challenge her but high enough to be nuisances. They weren't the reason she was here, and she didn't like wasting time. The end goal of a mission was always the most important thing. These thugs were slowing her down. Her mission statement was very clear; take down the crime lord and deliver him to the chamber, as quickly and quietly as possible. The council would determine his fate from there.

Her job was easy under the cover of night. A couple more sharp whacks to their heads and the criminals ended up unconscious on the filthy downtown Gotham sidewalk.

Wiping blood from her knuckles, Étoile hesitated.

 _Blood...mine? No, I broke his nose. Don't be stupid. It's too early in the mission to be hurt. Hurry now, before the adrenaline wears off._

Opening the doors to the small brick building, she was met with the sight of the boss raising an eyebrow, already subdued. His bodyguards lay unconscious and a figure in black and blue was crouched behind him, binding him to the chair with rope.

"Brought your little girlfriend, Nightwing? You're a little late, girly," He sneered, cocky even at the mercy of a man much stronger than him. A couple of years of power would do that to someone.

"Why do people always say that when a female hero enters the room? Honestly, get a little original." The man didn't seem fazed by her arrival. His eyes didn't even leave the knot he was making, causing irritation to rise in her. Who did this boy think he was, stealing her mission?

He finally looked up from his position and a charming smile replaced his focused stare.

"I'm Nightwing, as you've probably figured out, protector of the city of Blüdhaven. Pleased to meet you." He got up and extended his hand. She shook it quickly, then made her way to her target. She took a broken piece of glass from the floor and sliced the rope, forcing the man to his feet and clasping some handcuffs on him. She moved him forward.

"Étoile, the girl who will be taking this man to get his proper punishment rather than throwing him into a prison that will be broken into in a few month's time," she replied with a nod. Prodding her target along, she got to about five feet in front of the door before Nightwing slid between her and the exit.

"Sorry Étoile, my city, my rules. And I think you owe me a bit for cutting through my handiwork so fast."

She looked at him incredulously.

"We're in Aceline. Not Blϋdhaven."

"Which happens to be the city of a good buddy of mine. Soooo I have more authority here!" There it was again, that stupid, perfect grin. He was actually having _fun_ with this.

"Yeah, how about fuck you."

"Gladl-"

"Do _not_ finish that joke."

"Stop talking about me as if I'm not here, you _heroes,_ " the bound man mocked. Nightwing turned on the electricity for one of his escrima sticks and pressed it to the man's abdomen. He convulsed violently for a second before dropping into her awaiting arms, unconscious. She grunted from the sudden dead weight and scowled at the sleeping man.

"What do you want with old boss Conney anyways?" he asked innocently, still leaning against the doorway.

"Conney has been involved with sex slave rings, drug peddling, and an assassination service. He's been in prison four times. All four times, he got out. When something like that happens, certain people take notice, and then people like me are hired to put them into their place. Obviously, these jails aren't meant to house criminals like him," she answered matter-of-factly. "The justice system is too broken to deal with anything more than petty thieves. That's why people like us become vigilantes."

The grin slipped off his face, becoming a serious and still expression that Étoile thought suited a vigilante much better than a smile.

"How come I've never heard of you before, Étoile?" he asked.

"Do you think the public would ever approve of someone like me? They'd assume I was an assassin and blast warnings abut me from every television station. I don't need my targets knowing I'm hunting them."

"And you're telling me you aren't one?" His comment made unpleasant memories become restless. She could feel them pounding against her skull now, begging her to relive them. She grit her teeth together to distract herself and forced out a sentence.

"I only kill when absolutely necessary."

"So you aren't going to kill him?" He seemed doubtful.

 _That's not my place to decide._

"No. He'll stay alive," she lied. She had no idea what the court would decide. His part in the assassination service could lead them to sentence him to death. She'd never know if she didn't get out of this damn conversation before the cops arrived at the scene and busted her.

He considered the idea for a moment before stepping out of the doorway, opening the door for her.

"This isn't me saying that I agree with you. This is me giving you a chance to prove to me that I can let you do your business in Gotham without my interference. Just don't rough him up too much, alright?" He offered her a small smile and saw the corners of her lips twitch up just the slightest bit in response. Nightwing watched as she nodded and dragged the crook out onto the street. Throwing Conney over her shoulder, she ran and took a running jump before grappling up onto rooftop and running out of sight.

He waited for five minutes, staring where he saw her last, contemplating what to do before turning on his earpiece.

"Tim, are you on patrol tonight? No? Perfect. I need you to find everything you can about a female vigilante named Étoile."

***2 years later***

"Damian I swear to God if you do give me back my laptop-"

"You'll do _what_ , Drake? This is for your own good. You don't get enough sunlight."

"Since when have _you_ cared about my health, brat?"

"You two...will you _please_ shut up?" Dick sighed. His voice echoed throughout the Batcave as he flipped through a file. His day job of being a cop coupled with his vigilante business often left him exhausted. Being with his disfunctional family really wasn't helping.

"How do you expect me to work when this entitled little asshole has my laptop? I need that!" Tim lunged at Damian and the younger of the two brothers dodged.

As the ruckus raged on behind him, the eldest rubbed his temples. Tim frowned and scrambled for a way to convince his older brother to help. As the exhausting memories of last night's research came back to him, he recalled Dick's interest in a certain girl, a very long time ago.

"My _work,_ by the way, involves a certain vigilante named Étoile."

Dick paused.

"Damian, give him the laptop."

"Grayson!"

"Now, kiddo. This is important."

Damian grumbled something under his breath before thrusting the sleek device toward Tim. He wrenched it out of his younger brother's grasp with a triumphant face, flipping it open and setting it down on the tablespace next to the first Robin. Dick walked over and peered at the screen where a blurry picture of the girl he'd met years ago resided. She looked slightly different, but there was no denying that this was the same person.

"She's been silent the last year, or so I thought. I've been working on a different case when I found something weird. Our Wayne tech cameras, the ones we installed in secret? A couple of them had been looping the same feed for a year. An entire year! Our security didn't pick up on it because someone _hacked_ it. Someone _hacked_ our cameras!" Tim seemed agitated now, irritated at himself for not noticing the flaws. "Whoever works with her is good. I restored the cameras last week and I got footage of Étoile and three others around town, dealing with basic criminals on their way southwest. I think she's headed for Blϋdhaven. " Tim nudged the screen over to show him the new footage of her. A quick clip from one of the cameras showed that her fighting style had become more refined. She was taller, leaner, quicker, quieter...dangerous.

"Who is this girl, Grayson? And why do you care?" Damian huffed. He struggled to see the computer from behind the two taller men.

"Just someone I met a while ago, and someone I hope doesn't go down the wrong path. She kind of reminds me of Jason. I couldn't let her end up..." He trailed off.

"She won't, Dick. That wasn't your fault, anyway," Tim provided gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

There was a solemn silence for a few minutes as they let the oldest boy gather himself. It was shattered rather quickly, however, as a new person entered the conversation.

"I know her." The three jumped at the sound of a fourth voice behind them, female this time. Cassandra Cain looked back at them quizzically.

"Cass, I know you were trained as an assassin but could you please give us a little heads up before you sneak up on us like that?" Tim smoothed back his hair, frazzled.

"Sorry."

"What did you say about her?" Dick asked.

"I met her. Five years ago. She helped me. Her and others from Skye."

"Skye?"

"Skye, an underground organization founded to dole out justice to criminals that, according to them, weren't being given their proper punishments by the government. Not a lot is known about them other than that." When Dick and Tim stared at him blankly, he sighed. "Jesus, doesn't anyone in this family do their research?"

"I was outnumbered and hurt. Her team came to get a target. Bought me time and saved me energy. I did not know her name, though." Cassandra tilted her head curiously at the three in front of her. "Is she hurting anyone?"

"I think the only thing she's hurting is Grayson's focus. She's not a priority," Damian scoffed.

"You're telling me you aren't even the least bit curious about her and Skye?" Tim asked.

"Look at her. She calls herself star in French. She's just another amateur trying to make things better. And hey, she make our job easier, so what do I care what she does?"

His brothers returned to squabbling behind him as Dick studied her route. She **did** seem to be headed towards his city. And if she was, she became his responsibility. With a new resolve, he decided that if she was returning to Blϋdhaven, he was going to find her and make sure that she wouldn't become another dead corpse on his hands.

* * *

 **Undisclosed location, Skye US Main Headquarters**

'Name: Inès Delavergne

Alias: Étoile

Status: Active

Occupation: Hunter

Clearance: Level 4'

The screen at the foot of her bed always glowed. Dim at night, bright in the day, through power outages and routine lock down drills. It displayed her achievements and basic information, her authority among her peers, meant to showcase skill.

More often than not, however, it displayed her mission statements. Today, it was blissfully blank, making it a rare and special day, a day to spend relaxing sore muscles and organizing herself so that she could return to working at her best. And she planned to do exactly that in the Skye saunas.

The wooden walls of the bathhouse and sauna were old, worn, and familiar. The steam was warm against her skin and she approached an empty bath with a soft smile decorating her normally stoic features. Her foot dipped into the hot water, swallowing her body slowly.

"Mmm…" She was fully submerged and just about to relax when a voice shattered her peace.

"What's up, Nez?"

Her arms immediately wrapped around her form at the sound of a male voice in the female saunas. Her dark eyes threw a pointed look over her shoulder, where the source of the voice stood with a lopsided grin on.

"Aw, don't be shy. It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before. We grew up in the same youth dorms and everything. I thought you trusted me more than anybody else here," it teased. The smug face of Declan Connolly emerged from behind a wall. Her hands moved away. He was, annoyingly, right. Years prior, her training group had done trust exercises to build cooperation, one of which included striping down in front of each other. It was unorthodox and uncomfortable, but that was Skye in a nutshell. It had definitely established a strange sort of trust between all of them. The kind of unbreakable trust that came with seeing her best friend's dick in a non-sexual way (and, you know, later seeing it in a fully sexual way) was hard to establish in other people.

"How did you sneak in?"

"I figured out the passcode."

"I knew that your talent with machinery would come back to bite me in the ass."

"Please honey, I thought we agreed that the ass is off limits."

"You are insufferable."

"Love you too," he replied, blowing her a kiss.

He stripped down and joined her in the hot bath.

"And if someone gets in?" She had no doubt he had secured the building, but she always had fun learning what clever shit Declan had done.

"I locked every possible opening."

"Everyone at Skye, even the children, know how to pick locks," she pointed out.

"Not my locks. Specially designed," he smirked, gloating clear in his tone. He pushed a stray brown curl out of his face and grinned widely when she rolled her eyes at him.

Declan was a brilliant boy with tons of potential. A mechanical and technological prodigy. A genius. And what did he decide to do with his skills? Use it to break into the saunas so that he could disturb her on her free day.

"If you're looking to have sex, then today is not the day. I'm more than just your fuck buddy, I am your friend, and not everyone has your insatiable sexual appetite, Connolly. "

H pretended to look hurt and clutched at his chest, "Your SAT words wound me, Nezzy. Can't I just come to check up on my bestie?" He stuck his tongue out maturely. It was truly a mystery how such a childish person could also be a deadly fighter.

"Not if it's you. You always want something."

"Well not this time. We don't get to hang out much anymore. You're always in Gotham. The crime capital of the world has really earned its name." He ran a hand through his wet hair. His smile faltered for a moment and exhaustion was suddenly evident in the dark circles under his eyes and droop of his mouth. _Shit._ Why hadn't she noticed that before?

"Declan. Are you sleeping?"

There was a half second of silence as he gave her a look.

"Okay, let me rephrase that. Are you getting _enough_ sleep?" Her concern skyrocketed. And here she had been, thinking that today might be relaxing. He muttered something quietly and sank up to his chin into the water.

"Declan Joseph Connolly!"

"It's fiiiiiiiine. I haven't taken a mission in a while and my project is almost done anyways. You know that I like to see things through to the end. Besides, working distracts me from the fact that my best friend isn't here."

"Flattery isn't going to win me over this time. I cannot _believe_ you."

"It isn't flattery, I sincerely missed you. You're my closest friend! Don't get maaaad." Her worry deflated a bit.

"I am not mad, I am concerned. That is it, we're taking the team on a mission and I will make sure you get so drained that you will have no choice but to sleep!"

He cocked his head and smiled. "At least you aren't drugging my drink with sleeping pills this time."

"I did what I had to," she said defensively, "You looked like death. I stand by my decision."

"I was knocked out for an entire day, Nez. The doctors thought I was in a coma."

"I put the proper dosage in. That was just a testament to how much you needed sleep."

"Mhm. If that's what you really think…" She rolled her eyes.

"Why does Saint keep putting our team in Gotham to deal with minor targets anyways? She knows we're good enough for bigger ones. I want a challenge." She hated the way all of the criminals fell for the same tricks and how each capture was mechanical. No testing of skill, nothing to make her improve. All she had learned about were the streets of Gotham and how they worked. Occasionally, they dipped into Blϋdhaven. Every time, she kept an eye out for a blue and black clad body moving through the streets. Once, she thought she spotted a black boot but it was gone before she got a closer look. It could have been a stray cat.

"Don't stress over it. I'm sure it's just practice for some big baddie somewhere in Gotham. They probably just haven't tracked them down yet." Declan's words weren't enough to smooth over her frustration. The hot water steamed when it neared her glowing fingertips. She dunked them in water to cool off. Now was not the best time for her powers to flare up.

"The Gotham baddies should be handled by the Gotham goodies. Batman and crew are perfectly capable." How many of them were there now? Batman, Robin, Nightwing, Red Robin, Batgirl, Batwoman, Orphan, she had even heard Red Hood was involved with them. For a loner, Batman sure did have a large network of coworkers.

"Hey, calm down. Let's just soak for a bit. Some peace and quiet could do us both a world of good." Declan's touch was soothing as he scooted over and rubbed her shoulders.

She was just about to respond when their Skye alert watches began to beep in sync. The two groaned and pulled themselves out of the water. Picking up her watch, Inès frowned. In lieu of a mission statement, the screen simply stated "Report to meeting room 31 for debriefing in ten minutes." Her and Declan exchanged glances. This must be important for them to be pulled from their rest days, even more so if it required a debriefing. The young man gave her a smug look.

"I guess you're getting that challenge you wanted then. Funny, almost like I predicted it."

She punched him in the arm lightly and made her way to the locker rooms with a strange feeling in her stomach and a vague sense of dread.

* * *

AN: Hello! Welcome and thanks for reading my story! Goodness, it's been awhile since I've written one of these. Looking back on my old writing from this account is almost painful, but I won't delete them. Improvement is real, kiddos.

I tried to lay down some groundwork, though it was definitely hard not to tell instead of show. I might host a Q and A chapter where I answer questions from PMs or reviews since I can't always spend a lot of time explaining while sticking to the plot. I hope the length isn't too short, because this is probably going to be a standard chapter (2k-3k words). But you don't want to listen to me chatter on. Please leave a review! I would love some pointers, especially on sentence length variation. It may take a while for chapter two since I don't write ahead of time and school is close, but please just hold tight for a while!

Pronunciation guide:

Inès: ee-NEZ

Étoile: ay-TWALL

Declan: DECK-lehn

Connolly: kAA-nuh-lee

Skye: It's still 'sky', just with an 'e', it's not that hard

Delavergne: dell-ah-VERN


	2. Chapter 2

About the universe: Everything is pretty much as it was in season 2 except Jason is back as Red Hood (but not on the team), Tim is Red Robin, and Damian is in the picture, but not the team. As for the rest of the general Batfam, Oracle is still Oracle and Cass' English has improved a lot. Mount Justice has been rebuilt because I love it and refuse to let go of it.

I made some changes to chapter one as of 9/26/17, so you can go check that out if you'd like.

***= time skip

Line break= location/POV change

(The fact that ffnet doesn't allow indents is driving m e)

* * *

Room 31 was a short walk from the saunas, just past the adult male dorms. Nevertheless, it gave her enough time to run countless theories about the meeting's purpose through her head, each one a more exhausting task than the one before. Taking down a super villain? No, they'd done that before, they wouldn't need a meeting. That also ruled out infiltration and recon missions. Declan seemed none the wiser about the possible gravity of the situation, whistling as he strolled to the Dawes building.

Her companion was attracting looks of interest as they walked toward their destination, probably because he was well known and liked for his lightheartedness. Declan had practically been raised at Skye, so it didn't come as a surprise that he was friends with half of the organization. He'd always been there, even when back when she wasn't her own hero and visited Skye only when her mentor gave progress reports. Her curious eyes had picked him out from behind window panes and he would smile when he saw her staring. Her mentor would pinch her sharply for being distracted and push her along.

 _Damn, that was so long ago. Five years now. Five years since I last saw him as a stranger. Five years since I came to live at Skye. Five years since...since..._

She grit her teeth, forcing herself not to remember.

 _Get over yourself. You're being weak and illogical. It's been long enough, just move on._

Her hands curled and she was dimly aware of the familiar sting of nails digging into her palms. The memories were pushing their way to the surface. She forced them down again.

A warm hand placed itself on her arm gently, hesitantly, and she was torn from her mental struggle. When her eyes focused, Declan was staring at her. His expression was carefully constructed to appear blank to anyone passing by, and yet his gray eyes were worried. The same orbs flicked down to her hands and back to her.

 _ **You're flaring again. Are you okay?**_ He tapped on her arm in morse code.

 _Flaring? Was I…?_

She looked down to see her fingertips burning dimly with an otherworldly yellow light. Shit, she _was_ flaring. She had been since yesterday. She had to find an outlet, some sort of remote location to practice in before the light forced its way out. Looking back up, she shook her head. Bumping her arm against his thigh, she tapped out her reply.

 _ **Fine, it's fine.**_

A blatant lie that he could see through without even trying. He squeezed her arm.

 _ **Be careful.**_

 _ **I will.**_

She shoved her burning hands into the pockets of her dark green hoodie. They kept walking as she brought herself back from that hazy world of regret. His hand never left her. It helped her with pulling herself together. When his hand finally did leave her, they had already arrived at the Dawes building, where the meeting was being held. It moved to the sturdy door in front of them, pressing against the cool metal. It made a series of quiet noises while it decoded his fingerprint and unlocked the door.

It swung open to reveal four other figures, varying in heights and levels of interest in the meeting. Saint, their instructor, sat at the head of the meeting table reading a progress report as she drummed her fingers on the tabletop restlessly. Katy had her head on the table, blinking sleep from her eyes. Cherilyn was sharpening a throwing knife, her blue eyes bright and alert. And Mark was simply grumpy, his frown clearly visible even through his thick brown beard. Probably hungover. It wouldn't be the first time nor the last.

"You two were nearly late." Saint didn't look up, instead turning to view the holographic screen behind her, which had just finished running calculations. Five locations appeared on a map of the eastern coast, all generally near each other, no more than a couple miles apart.

"Aw, come on mom. You're lecturing us about _almost_ being late now?" Declain teased, pulling out a chair and throwing himself onto it. She took the chair next to him.

"I am not your mother, Connolly, though you seem to treat me like it." She shot him a stern look. "Use your own money the next time you want alcohol, or at least cover your tracks. You're twenty two for Christ's sake."

"Whatever you say, ma!"

"If we're just here to listen to Declan joke around, then I'm leaving. I barely got a bite out of my bagel." Cherilyn glared over in his direction and he responded with a sly grin.

"Calm down, Williams. We're getting there." Their instructor motioned to the screen where the five pinpricks of light shone like tiny stars dotting the coastline. "You've been called here because this mission is going to be somewhat different from what you're used to."

The five exchanged looks.

"All five of you will be splitting up, going undercover. This mission may take months, maybe even longer." She paid no heed to their confused and intimidated faces. "There have been individuals that Skye has had their eyes on for awhile, mainly due to ongoing suspicious activity. Not surprisingly, they are clustered around the general Gotham area."

"Gotham _always_ has suspicious people, why are we involved? I thought we just took out people who got out of jail or something," Katy whined. The newest addition to her team, Katy Vaillancourt had been on her team for a grand total of three months, so she did not quite understand the way the team worked or the intensity of trust they placed in each other.

"Do your homework before you join a team, will you Katy? Not all of Skye's work is so upfront," Saint sighed, not appreciating the interjection.

"Hey, don't blame me. You want someone who studies? Talk to stargirl over there. She's the strategist, not me. We got the entire team dynamic down, auntie," she drawled, an easy, feline smile gracing her features. She then preoccupied herself with pulling her auburn hair into a tight ponytail. "So, continue with our mission statement."

Saint frowned but carried on, already accustomed to her niece's refusal to claim responsibility. "Each of you are assigned to a target which you will study until you can find out whether or not they can be considered a threat. If they are, do not engage. Report it and Agents will determine what to do. You five are expected to give weekly progress reports, more if necessary. This mission does not end until each and every one of you have determined whether the target is dangerous or not."

"That's cool and all, but most of us live at Skye. What are we supposed to do in the outside world? We don't have jobs or friends or houses or-"

"Katy?"

"Yeah, Cher?"

"Shut up and just listen."

"Hey! That was uncalled for."

"Listen kid, I'm way too tired for this and we're all getting annoyed with your constant chatter, aren't we Mark?"

Mark grunted ambiguously and Cherilyn tossed him a dirty look.

Their instructor rubbed her temples before reaching beneath the table, pulling five manila folders out of a shelf and handing them out. Each one had one of their names on it along with a thin stack of papers tucked inside.

"Here are your targets."

Curious, they all cracked open the files and began combing through. Upon opening the folder, she was greeted with bold type reading:

 **Ines Delavergne, mission X235**

 **Identity: Ines Robinson**

(She sighed at the mistake. Whoever printed her reports never quite nailed the accent on the e. Nobody did.)

 **Occupation: Police Officer, Blϋdhaven PD**

 **Residence: 21 Roseview Apartments**

 **Target: Richard John Grayson**

 **Mission duration: undetermined**

 **Mission: Undercover evaluation, determine threat level, send report to HQ weekly.**

After the obligatory information sheets about her fake past and identity, she found sheet after sheet of information about her target, gathered from Skye's ever-expanding information network. From a copy of his birth certificate and his apartment address to the place he was last seen, it had everything she could possibly want to know about him and more. She was disrupted from her skimming when Declan looked over at her file and began to pout.

"You get to be a police officer? Not fair."

"Oh hush, I have to work with my target. Why, what's your job?"

"Forensic scientist."

"You love science," she pointed out.

"Yeah, for _fun_ , I don't want it to be an obligation," he grumbled, slouching into his chair.

Her eyes returned to her own papers and she bit her lip. Declan would only be a half hour away, and yet she still felt like she was going to be alone. She needed his presence there like a building needs its support beams. His existence was a constant reminder of what she had gone through, and how she had survived it. For all his impulsiveness, he was still her rock.

He glanced over at her and took her hand, a small, reassuring smile lighting his features, almost like he was reading her mind. She smiled back and Cherilyn scoffed and muttered something about shameless flirting under her breath.

"I want you all to remember that Team Umbra is a team primarily composed of Hunters, and this is work that is normally assigned to Seekers. As a result, this is a relatively low class, low risk mission. If you are compromised, we are prepared. That is _not_ , however, an excuse to slack off." Saint regarded the team with a stern look. Everyone's posture straightened.

"Any information you gather is valuable to Skye, so do your absolute best and you will succeed. In that, I am doubtless. You all are much too skilled." A strange, wistful, fond look passed over her face as she examined the band of children that she had trained, raised, and put together. The last decade or so of her life had been put forward to help these bright young students. Looking at them now, strong, united, and ready to fight in a foreign situation was enough to make any Mentor proud. "I expect only greatness to come from this mission. I have faith in you, and so does Skye."

Saint made a 'c' shape with her left hand and held it up to her eye in the Skye salute. The rest followed suit.

"Caelum est fides," She said clearly.

"Quod caelum sit iustitia," they finished.

 _The sky is loyal. The sky is just._

"Meeting adjourned. Good luck, Umbra."

Cherilyn and Mark stayed behind to examine the map and Declan, Inès, and Katy left. No one spoke as they walked, all three turning over their targets in their heads. Somewhere along the way, Katy fell back to head to her dorm and Declan went toward the labs and when Inès finally looked up, she saw that her feet had taken her to the front of the dance studio. Taking a deep breath to clear her mind, she tied her hair up into a tight bun and entered.

Working her body into complicated shapes, dances, and positions was the best way she had found to escape the seemingly constant reminders of her traumatic night five years back. When she was moving fast, she had to think about the immediate future, not the distant past. Any sort of physical exertion was relief, whether in be in the studio, the gym, on the streets, or in a bedroom. The burning lungs and aching toes, the strained muscles and twisted ankles, all of it was better than feeling cold again. The countless cuts and bruises, the adrenaline of dodging a punch that came a little too close, that pain could fill the hollowness, the numbness. She ran until her legs gave out from under her, but not because of fear or helplessness, not this time, just tiredness. The feeling of hands on her skin reminded her that she was here, now, and her fingertips were pressed against a breathing human body instead of a trigger.

So she spent her time at the gym or studio, occasionally entering the dorms. She pushed her limits until she was so exhausted that the nightmares couldn't touch her.

Which left her where she was now. She leaned against the wall, panting as the music was turned off. Footsteps approached. Sweat dripped off her chin and she graciously accepted the cool water bottle handed to her.

"I packed your things for you. They're in your room," Katy murmured quietly. Her amber eyes flicked down to Inès' bruised feet. A knowing smile pulled at her lips. "You going to be able to walk with those?"

"If I can survive a workout on pointe shoes, I can handle the aftermath," she gasped, laughing lightly. She rolled her ankles and the slid to the floor, massaging them gently.

"So, what are you going undercover as?" Inès asked after a short silence.

"Only thing I can be, really. High school student," Katy sighed. "Sucks being so young sometimes."

"Oh, you'll be regretting that phrase in a couple years."

"Well, if regret is years away then I don't see the use of worrying now," she grinned. She extended her hand and Inès took it, bringing herself to her feet. Her knees buckled and she had to take two steps forward to regain her balance.

"Are you going to be okay? Alone, that is," she asked the younger girl. Katy shrugged.

"I'll have fake parents to take care of me. They're Skye people too. I'll be fine. It's you I'm most worried about."

Her eyes snapped toward her, surprised.

"What do you mean? I can take care of myself." Confused amusement laced her voice.

"Physically, yes, but you have a tendency to get..uh," she hesitated, "..snappish after being alone for a while."

 _Snappish? You have no idea how much worse it can get._

"Well I'll have to deal with it, won't I?" Her lips were stretched into a smile when she delivered the statement, wanting to soothe Katy's worry, but the heavy feeling of dread was overcoming her again. Being alone, flaring, remembering, it all was going to be hell. She couldn't let her know that, though. Katy needed a strong leader. A fearless, self-controlled, strong leader. As the unofficial leader of Team Umbra, that duty fell to her. She cursed herself for having let her see how unstable she could get.

Katy seemed satisfied with that answer, returning to her usual carefree demeanor. They resumed an easy conversation.

She had fooled her for the time being. It was exhausting and stressful keeping up this facade of bravery, and sometimes she just wanted to tell her the truth. Tell her that she was weak and scared, scared of being weak, weak _because_ she was scared, all these paradoxes trapped inside of her.

 _But Katy shouldn't have to deal with that. She's only fifteen._

So that's the way things were. The way things had to be.

* * *

 **Mount Justice, Happy Harbor. November 18th.**

"This is Nightwing to Team Alpha, report."

"Miss Martian to Nightwing. Everything went smoothly...more or less. We're heading to the Mountain now. It'll be about ten minutes."

"Beast Boy to Nightwing! You should have _seen_ us! It was so cool!"

"That's great, Garth. But all I asked you to do was gather evidence against Mark Tampen. Did you engage in combat?"

There was silence on the other end. Dick just shook his head fondly.

"I wasn't expecting anything less. Nightwing out."

He sat down for the first time since his arrival just a few moments before and propped his feet up against the keyboard.

 _Black Canary would kill me if she saw me right now. She used to scold us about it all the time. Man, I remember-_

"Nightwing, I wasn't expecting you here. I thought you had business in Blüdhaven?" a woman's voice remarked from directly behind him.

He winced. _Think of the devil…_

"BC, I wasn't expecting you here either!" He put on a charming smile and tucked his feet back under him quickly. He turned around and blinked up at her innocently. She swatted his arm in response.

"Well, Blüdhaven's been having a slow day. I guess the cold weather deters even the toughest of gang members. Besides," he shrugged, "Thanksgiving's coming up. It's time to be with family."

"I take it old man Bats isn't the type to invite everyone to dinner?" she asked casually.

He pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing. Last year's Thanksgiving had been disastrous. Cass had coerced Jason into coming to the family dinner and, within two hours, gunshots had already gone off. Once all the sibling banter had somewhat settled down, they actually had a decently peaceful dinner. That is until Jason slipped vodka into Tim's drink and they all learned that Tim got really, _really_ red when he drank. Also very emotional. The teasing had become relentless ever since.

He came back from reminiscing when Black Canary had to repeat her question. "Ah, uhm, no. Not really. Well, it's not like he doesn't _want_ everyone there, it's just hard to keep the entire 'extended family' in one room without something...happening."

 _Otherwise known as breaking or exploding. Or both._

Dinah nodded and her eyes strayed upwards at the screen.

"Who's that?" He followed her line of sight until he saw the figure on the screen she was referring to. The footage of his mystery girl was playing in a silent loop, the file probably opened when his foot hit some keys.

"A Skye agent. She's been seen in my city, I had to check her out. Do you happen to know anything about Skye?" He asked hopefully.

Dinah didn't say anything for a minute. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at the screen and frowned.

"Do yourself a favor, Nightwing. Don't get involved with Skye. They only show loyalty to their own. Anyone outside of Skye is _nothing_ to them. These people are ruthless and aren't afraid to kill." She paused to look at him in the eyes. Her motherly demeanor was gone. Her eyes were cold and filled with resentment. "The League worked with them once. These people aren't your friends."

Nightwing kept his face impassive, donning the familiar poker face you learned how to construct when you lived with Batman. So Bruce had been lying when he asked him if he knew anything about Skye...He might not have been directly involved with the mission the two organizations worked on together, but he was Batman. Anything that happened with the League, he knew about. That also meant there was a file hidden on the Batcomputer and another one in the League database. Maybe he could get another League member to spill some information on Skye and use code words to find them.

"So I should just leave her alone?"

"That's not what I meant," she sighed. "I suppose it would be the smart thing to see what she wants in Blüdhaven. But don't confront her until you know _exactly_ what you're dealing with."

Almost as if on cue, as soon as she finished her sentence the zeta tubes fired up and announced the arrival of Team Alpha and Beta, the only two teams to have gone on the mission. Unable to contain his excitement, Bart ran over to Nightwing and was by his side in the blink of an eye.

"Did you hear what Garth said over the link? We were _so_ good! We were cornered on this super tall building and Garth wasn't conscious so he couldn't just fly us off and so we had to jump off a-" he blabbered on, his powers increasing his speech until it was indiscernible. The leader simply nodded and smiled at M'Gann when she sent him a tired, apologetic look.

"Sounds like a lot of fun, Bart. Now hit the showers and change, your costume looks filthy," he teased lightly. Bart looked down at his costume and blinked, surprised.

"Huh. I'm dirty. Probably from when he landed in the pile of-"

"We really _don't_ need to talk about that," Cassie interjected. "Experiencing it once was enough."

"Fair enough. Hey, race you to the showers!" With a snarky grin he was off and running into the showers.

Miss Martian approached Nightwing as the rest of the team bounded to the showers in a massive race. She was dirty and had smudges of dirt all over her face and suit, but she didn't look too exhausted. She collapsed into the chair next to him and rolled over to bump him lightly. Dinah went off to the kitchen to prepare some food.

"Anything interesting happen while we were beating off thugs?" she asked pleasantly. Her peripheral caught the image of the girl and a devilish smile lit up her features. "Or anyone?"

"No, actually, nothing interesting happened," he shot back. "But we can check the news if you want."

She reached over his lap and tapped a couple keys. The screen flickered and then showed the national news where the weekly half hour discussion about the nation's superheroes was in full swing.

"-we turn our attention to the ever busy Gotham where there has been a swell of new criminals roaming the streets after the breakout in a nearby prison. While none have powers, they are armed and citizens are encouraged to take extra measures to protect themselves and their property. In accordance to the rise in criminal activity, Batman and the other Gotham-centered members of Batman Incorporated are more active than ever. There are also rumours of unknown superheroes lurking in the shadows, quietly taking out criminals that the others did not get to in time. Said criminals are found bound, gagged, and unconscious outside various police stations. If anybody has any knowledge of these vigilantes, please contact us at this number." A number rolled across the bottom of the screen in a brilliant red font.

M'Gann let out a low whistle. "You call this nothing?"

"B doesn't exactly keep me up to date on Gotham news…" he defended.

"Well, are you sure you aren't needed there?'

"No, they've taken down worse. Blüdhaven only has one protector, and he needs to be there." M'Gann nodded slowly, staring the screen as the reporter invited a peppy young woman to join him. She immediately began listing off theories about who the 'shadow heroes' could be.

"It may have a couple soon enough," she mused. Grainy photos of dark figures in alleys occupied the screen, the so-called mystery vigilantes caught on security cameras. A familiar blend of black and gold caught his eye in the corner of one. He leaned forward quizzically. It aligned with what Tim had told him that morning, sure, but why now? Why had she returned after two years of silence?

More interestingly, why did he still remember her after two years?

It was a question he was only vaguely sure he could answer. What he told Damien was partly true. There was something else there too, though. Something about how she had seemed so indignant and firm in her actions, how she was so sure she was doing the right thing (doing whatever Skye did to criminals). He knew what lengths a stubborn, passionate spirit would go to if they believed their actions to be for the greater good. Such a person was dangerous if their cause turned out to be wrong. Such a person could be coerced into doing things they shouldn't. Such a person could end up being a huge pain in the butt for him.

"Are you worried?" M'gann asked sympathetically. Blüdhaven was a mark of his independence from Batman. It was his own city to defend. It meant a lot more to him than he let on, but he had known some of these people since he was thirteen. They knew.

"Honestly?" He heaved a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair. In the background, the reporter was talking about Barry now. "Less than I should be. Blüdhaven's always been mine. I'm used to being the one the kids look up to and the one the people trust. And as much as I love that, I need the help. It's not the size of the city, Blüdhaven's pretty small compared to Gotham. It's the workload. I have my day job which already has demanding hours and there's also being Nightwing and the team and helping B and…" He paused to compose himself. "I'm worried that if they aren't the heroes they seem to be, I'll have to take care of them and I'm already stretched too thin to do that. I'm worried that I'll get buried under the work and I'll let them run amok."

The Martian said nothing and instead put a hand on his shoulder. He met her eyes and nodded when she gave him a questioning look. He closed his eyes and felt her presence in his brain, in the space that he allowed her to see, being careful to keep other parts locked away. After a minute of sorting through his most prevalent thoughts, M'Gann pulled away. She was quiet for some time, and when she did speak, it was very quietly.

"I didn't know it was that bad. Dick, you don't need to carry the world on your shoulders all the time. You have us and your family, and while you can't call on your family to help you at the moment, we're still here for you to talk to."

There was another stretch of silence before he spoke.

"What do you recommend I do, then?"

"Go find these people and get one of them to help. They obviously want to. Bring them to the team if you want, that could be even better, it would give them a purpose rather than just doing basic cleaning up." Her words were kind and soft. For the first time in a while, he felt the tension in his muscles slacken.

"That's...really good advice. Thanks, M'Gann," he smiled gently.

"That's what a teammate's for. Not to mention a friend," she replied.

He embraced her just as Superboy walked in, freshly showered and still slightly damp.

"Hey guys, Black Canary set out some pizza in the kitchen if you want any. Oh Nightwing, Batman just called. He wants you to update the computers in the Watchtower," he called out. Nightwing pushed a hand through his hair and groaned comically.

"Alright, fine. Have fun with the pizza I'll never get to taste," he whined, heading for the zeta tubes. The couple waved and he stepped into the tubes. A robotic voice authorized his travel to the Watchtower and the last thing he saw before the light blurred everything from sight was Connor making a dry joke and Megan elbowing him in the side. It was such a familiar sight, he had to grin.

They faded from view and suddenly he felt weightless. The faint hum of the machines was all he heard as the light took him thousands of miles away into the Watchtower.

" _Nightwing, B01."_ The voice echoed through the Watchtower upon his entry. When the light faded, the was greeted by the sight of a very distracted Barry Allen. He was holding a mug of hot cocoa and was playing space invaders on the Watchtower's main computer. He wasn't surprised. This was a surprisingly common occurrence.

"Hey kid, come to see the Bats?" He asked offhandedly.

"He's here?"

"No, he's off researching a cas- no! These pixelated little…" he trailed off into indistinct muttering, leaning forward into the screen anxiously.

"I'll just update the League computer then leave. Hey, uh, quick question." He glanced quickly at the man to check how distracted he was. Nightwing approached him casually and leaned on the tablespace.

"Shoot."

"Do you know anything about Skye?"

"The organization?" He took his time answering, hitting three more invaders before responding. "Uhh yeah. They're driven people. I think it was two years ago that the League worked with them. We needed some of their technology and connections to bust this huge organ trafficking ring. Why?"

"Oh nothing, Robin mentioned something about it and I wanted to know what kind of organization they were." He flipped his hair nonchalantly.

"Oh, well there you go. Hey, can you do me a favor and get me a snack from the kitchen?" He asked with a grin. Nightwing just smiled. He and Wally were so similar it was almost scary.

He pulled a granola bar out of his utility belt instead and Barry accepted it gratefully. When he turned back to his game and was distracted enough, Nightwing slipped away to a computer in the back of the Watchtower inside a small and quiet room that was seldom checked. The only sound he could hear was the faint humming of the computer booting up in the corner.

He sat on the chair and let his fingers hover over the keys. The Justice League database was displayed on the screen in a blazing blue.

 _B probably put Skye's files into the database. So think like Batman. How would he write out a report about Skye?_

It only took him a few seconds to figure out three key phrases. For all his mystery, Batman couldn't hide from someone who had lived with him for years.

His fingers tapped rapidly at the keys. Into the search bar, he inputted the words 'potential threat', 'technology', and 'organ traffic.' Three files came up but only one was labelled with a clear 'SKYE' label. He opened it.

A surprising amount of pages came up; there was one dating back up to seven years ago to when a young superhero went missing after a mission to a warehouse in Singapore. His family claimed that he left them notes bidding them farewell and that he was safe. At the bottom, his name was signed with the letters SKYE after them. They assumed that it was an acronym for something but they never figured out what.

Two years after that in Washington D.C, two students, male and female, went missing. Days later, the female student's boyfriend and aunt were found dead in an alley. Evidence led the police to believe that the aunt killed the male student, then herself. The girl was never seen again, but there was a necklace found in her old bedroom that had 'SKYE' engraved on it.

Three years ago, a young couple and their five year old son vanished in the middle of the night. They were considered recluses and had little to no relations with their neighbors. They did, however, have a babysitter who came to watch their son over the weekends and when the babysitter came over, she found her usual instructions but no child. Strangely enough, the mother signed off with 'Thanks again! ~Isabel Skye Walker'. All government records of the mother showed that Claire was her middle name and she did not use the name Skye on any documents.

One year ago, one of Lex Luthor's laboratories was broken into. Nothing was stolen or tampered with. The only disturbance in the entire building seemed to be the words 'The Skye does not forget' written in dark blue paint on a vat. It was written off as a nearby gang called Midnight asserting their dominance in the area. It didn't answer the question of how meer thugs could have broken into one of Lex Luthor's laboratories, but any reporters who dared to ask seemed to have been hushed up.

It was the last incident that intrigued him most of all. If they could hack into a Luthor laboratory, where else could they get into? Where had they already gotten into? He would have to find out later. He quickly copied the files onto a USB and updated the systems. All the computers in the Watchtower momentarily froze and from a distance he could hear Barry's anguished cry when the game shut down.

By the time he made it into the zeta tube, Barry had recovered from the shock. He caught the young vigilante's eyes and softly muttered "Why?"

He shrugged. "I had to update the systems. Sorry about your game, Barry. "

"My high score was only a level away.."

"Agh, I'm really sorry man. I'll make it up to you later. But for now…"

His usual grin widened.

"I gotta flash!"

The zeta tube took away from The Flash's offended face and deposited him just outside of Wayne Manor. A silly, wide grin was still fixed on his face at his joke when a voice from above finally spoke.

"Tt. Home so late, Grayson?" it chided.

From his position in the trees, Damien was almost completely concealed by the darkness.

"Why, did you wait for me?" he teased lightly. Damien looked away with his mouth set into an uncomfortable frown. Dick's eyes widened. "You _were_ waiting for me!"

"Don't let it go to your head. Gotham is dangerous lately and I was simply…" he deliberated over his next words before speaking, "...making sure you weren't injured. Nobody wants to cover Blüdhaven for you when we're all so busy."

 _Translation: he was worried about me._ The thought made a soft warmth spread in his chest. His silly grin turned into one of genuine joy. His cheeks hurt from smiling but it was worth it. It was always worth it.

Damien noticed his delight and made a strange noise in his throat. "Hurry up and come inside. Pennyworth has dinner ready for you and Drake is working like a dog. I tried to get him to go to bed but he isn't one to take my advice."

He took off towards the dimly glowing lights of the manor. From his position on the forest floor, Damien was just a dark blur moving swiftly through the skies like an owl. He stood watching him for a moment to see if he would turn back. He didn't.

 _I suppose him turning around and waiting for me would be too much affection to ask for in one night..._ he thought with a chuckle.

It was mid November and the night air was crisp. The quiet howling the wind made when it blew through the trees and the soft songs of night birds were things he'd grown to associate with home. Walking towards the manor now, with the leaves crunching with every step and the knowledge that his family was waiting for him, there was almost nothing more he could ask for.

The concrete steps he was going up were the same ones he'd gone up as a nine year old. The door the same worn, polished wood. The man who opened the door had a few more gray hairs, but he was still the same grandfather figure that had consoled him after his fights with Bruce. The rush of warm air when he entered the manor, the sounds of Tim's footsteps coming to welcome him home, the nod he got from Bruce when he passed by him in the kitchen, the bickering of his two youngest brothers, the muted sounds of Cass and Babs sparring, Stephanie's laughter ringing out, these were all of the things that comforted him.

By the time he got in bed, his contentedness blocked any thoughts of Skye and shady heroes in his city. He just knew that he was home and his family was with him, and for the time being, that was enough.

* * *

 **Mission X235, team report #1**

 **Team Umbra**

 **11/21**

 **Mission state: Stable**

 **Mission stage: Stage 1**

 **Central Gotham arrival. All living arrangements secured. All members divided accordingly. Update on adjustment in two days. Next team progress report in one week.**

* * *

Ahhh I finally finished chapter 2! I felt so bad for leaving you guys without an update for a month, so I just doubled the length of this chapter to make up for it. Honestly though, most of the chapters in the beginning will probably be either really short or really long because I'll either have to explain/develop a lot or I might need a filler chapter of sorts in order to establish some facts for the next chapter. Bear with me on those chapters please, I swear it's all connected. I'm doing the nanowrimo challenge so expect the next few chapters to be heavy world development chapters. Hope you enjoy and thank you _**so**_ much for reading! RnR or PM as always!

~Much love, DBL


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, chapter 3, here we go. From now on, the typical chapter format should be AN, Inès' POV, Dick's POV, AN. Thanks again for reading!

A special thanks to the guest who left that kind review! I normally don't write this kind of content either but I figured I might give it a try.

Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or any other brands/shows mentioned in this story.

* * *

 **Ten years ago…**

 _She didn't know it had happened until the next morning when neither of her parents came down for breakfast._

 _It was a Sunday. That usually meant waking up late, having a nice family breakfast, going to church for a few hours, then coming back and watching a movie. Today, they'd picked out Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Sundays were always lazy, happy, and centered around the family._

 _But it was never_ _this_ _lazy. Maybe that should've been her first warning._

 _It was 11 am and the two of them hadn't come down yet. Impatient and brimming with excitement, the young twelve year old girl bounced on her heels in the kitchen. Her mother, at least, was always awake at this time. She couldn't say the same about her dad._

" _Mo-om! Dad?! What's taking you so long?" she yelled into the silent house. There was no reply._

 _Five minutes passed by. Still, there was no sound of movement._

" _Fine, I'll go wake you myself then," she grumbled to herself. Skipping every other stair, she bounded to her parent's bedroom. Everything looked normal. The curtains were shut and her parents were embracing each other in their sleep peacefully. It was almost beautiful, the way the sunlight streamed in through the windows along with the sound of songbirds. She might've stopped and enjoyed the scene for a little while longer if she had known what would happen next._

 _She grinned widely and rushed up to their bed, shaking her dad._

 _As soon as her hand touched him, she knew something was wrong. His body was freezing cold. Unnaturally cold. Her parents were always warm._

 _She shook him again._

" _Dad?"_

 _She shook him more violently this time. She waited for him to grumble something and roll on his side. She waited for him to open his eyes. She waited for her mom to scold her for waking her up so early when she was sick. She waited for them to break the silence with their voices, the comforting sounds washing over her and dispersing any worry she had, just like they always did._

 _Anything was better than this silence, this stillness._

 _Nothing happened._

 _She knew, at this point. She knew why he was so cold and why her parents didn't come downstairs for breakfast. But what her brain understood, her heart did not._

" _Dad? Wake up. Dad! We have to eat breakfast!" Her voice was cracking and filling with panic, like a dam of emotions had broken and overwhelmed her in the waves. Her mind went blank for three seconds before spinning into overdrive with excuses._

He just didn't sleep without the electric blanket on, that's why he's so cold!

Maybe they're just tired, Mom has been sick.

They're pretending! That's it! This is all one big joke! It has to be!

 _She scrambled over to the opposite side of the bed and shook her mother._

" _Mom? MOM! Please...Mom. Dad!" Her breath was coming in short gasps as the situation spun out of control. Her hand gripped the sheets and lifted her mom's hand. She let it go and it fell limply onto the bed._

Oh no.

Oh, God, no.

Please, no.

 _Her stomach churned and knotted into itself. Her throat filled with lead. Something thick and heavy wrapped its way around her heart like a snake strangling its prey before it devours it. For the first time in her life, she couldn't think, only feel, and it terrified her. It felt like suffocating, or slowly being crushed, or buried alive. It was the worst feeling she'd ever encountered._

 _She screamed, because she didn't know what else to do, She clutched at their arms and screamed her throat hoarse and cried as if the tears could bring them back. She crawled into the middle of them and wrapped their stiff arms around her to be held just one last time. She sobbed and begged them to come back to her. She prayed that she might have one more day. She clung to the shirt of her mom's shirt and cried into her dad's, soaking it and probably ruining the crime scene. She didn't care._

 _All she wanted were these last few moments where she could pretend it was alright. That they were sleeping and at any moment, they might wake up and hug her, wipe her tears, and ask her what was wrong._

 _It never happened because they were never going to wake up. She would never see her father's dark blue eyes or her mother's dark brown ones ever again. She would only ever see her own, so much like her mother's, but somehow duller and plainer. She had no siblings to bear the weight with. She had no loving relative to come console her. The closest living relative she knew of was her aunt in America._

 _The thought caused high pitched cries to push out of her exhausted lungs. She would be sent there to live, wouldn't she? So far from her home in France and all its familiarities. So far from even her other aunts and uncles in Korea whom she had met only once. Even though their encounters were limited to the one experience, she had loved them and they, her. Korea was much further away than America, though. She would never be sent there._

 _She cried and yelled for an eternity before the cops showed up and entered the room. She would later find that she'd been screaming for only five minutes before someone called the police. It had taken them another five to arrive. They had to pry her from her parents as she kicked, screamed, and bit. By the time they pulled her outside, she was tired and dehydrated. Her throat hurt so much, she couldn't talk. She sat, instead, on the steps of her house, waiting while strangers poked around her house._

They're touching mom's jewelry. She would really hate that.

They're going through dad's closet. I hope they don't mess it up too much. He hates organizing it.

They're in my room, going through my stuff. Mom knew how much I hated that. She wouldn't let this happen.

They're moving the-

 _She swallowed thickly. The plastic water bottle in her hands crunched when her fists tightened. It gave her some relief to destroy something._

They're moving the bodies.

 _After her meltdown, she had gone numb. Numbness felt better than the emotional storm she'd been swept up in before. She gripped the bottle harder and the crunching sound came again. The sounds and the sensation of plastic giving away under her fingertips was even better than the numbness._

 _For the first time, she sincerely wanted to hurt somebody. She wanted to know what it was like, to cause somebody this pain._

I wonder if they'd feel numb after I was done, too. Or if maybe they'd just continue feeling the pain.

 _She knew it was wrong. She could feel her mom's disapproving stare on her back, watching her from beyond the veil of this world._

 _"I'm sorry," she whispered into the air._

 _She tried again. It was wrong of her to hurt people. Except maybe, she thought, people who deserved it. Criminals. People who had caused others this pain. Surely, she could hurt them. Anyone who shattered a life could pay with a shattered shoulder._

 _It made sense, in a ruthless, unfeeling way. And that's what she wanted to be. Unfeeling. She didn't want to feel anymore. She wanted to just think. Think it all through. Thinking made the most of a situation. That's something her father had taught her a while ago._

 _People passed by her and gave her looks of pity as she stared into space. Her eyes were hollow, they said. What a shame, they said, for such a young girl to be abandoned so suddenly. The poor thing. She doesn't even fully understand what's going on._

 _She did. She really did. It was basic, really, if you detached yourself from the situation and thought objectively. Her parents were dead. She was an orphan. She was probably going to be shipped like cargo overseas to her aunt. The local press would plaster her on their front pages then forget about her in a few months. Simple._

 _Nobody came and talked to her. Nobody comforted her. The closest she got was a policeman draping his jacket around her to keep her warm._

 _It didn't help, the jacket. She didn't want to talk to anyone, anyways. But she was still cold. Cold in the way physical things couldn't fix. The emptiness, the new voids in her life, the loss, that was what chilled her to the bone. She hated the feeling of the cold almost as much as she hated the feeling of intense emotion._

I'm never going to be this cold again, _she thought to herself._

 _The words lingered in her mind for some odd reason. It was almost as if they had triggered something inside of her, something deeply embedded into her. Something buried in each of her cells. That something had been activated and ignited, causing her to feel a strange warmth all over her body, particularly in her hands. The words burned themselves into her memory. She chanted them over and over in her head until the promise clung to her. The heat increased with every recital._

 _It wasn't the warmth of a hug or of love. It was the warmth that you felt on a sunny day, the kind that slowly seeped through the skin. It wasn't entirely familiar but she knew it was her own. Whatever this heat was, it was entirely and infinitely hers._

 _It was a Sunday. It wasn't a lazy day. She didn't get to eat breakfast with her family. She didn't go to church. She never saw the movie they'd picked out the night before._

 _It was Sunday. It was an awful day. She got two silent bodies. She got painful realizations. And most importantly, she got a warm promise._

* * *

 **Ten years later...**

Her first full day on the mission started off mundane. There was nothing much to do. Her job started the next day so she couldn't meet her target. She knew no one in the area who wasn't a Skye contact and she _really_ didn't want to hang out with one of them. All she could do was read over the file again and again and memorize her backstory, which was painfully boring. The only real things of interest were the few pages about Blϋdhaven's protector, included in her file just in case she ever found herself meeting him.

From her place sprawled on the bed, she stared out the skylight above her in her small, minimalist apartment while she answered Declan's background quiz via video call.

"What were your parents' jobs?"

"Mom was a dancer, dad was a doctor." _That's easy, it's true._

"Do you have any siblings?"

"I'm an only child." _Kind of true._

"Why are you in Blüdhaven?"

"I moved here because I wanted to help solve real crime." _Wow, that is some quality grade bullshit._

"Jesus, who writes these backstories? I sound like a starry eyed loser," she scoffed.

"You still are driven by your insatiable desire for justice, aren't you?" he jabbed, referencing a conversation they had had when she first came to Skye.

 _Is he doing that dumb looking smile he does whenever he teases me?_ A glance at her laptop screen confirmed her suspicions. If she could have hit him through the screen, she would. For the moment, she settled on an exasperated look.

"Also, was that a pun?" he asked smugly.

"What?"

"Starry eyed?"

"..."

"..."

"...just ask me another question."

"Hey, it was funny!"

"It really wasn't," she said, biting back a smile.

"Fine, fine!" He put his hands up in surrender. "But I'm not asking you more questions. This has been going on for too long. You already know everything you need."

She pushed a strand of dark brown hair out of her face. Her lips pursed in dissatisfaction.

"Not the point. I am bored as hell. There is _nothing_ to do here, Declan!" She sat up and faced the screen. Declan's reading glasses reflected the two other screens in front of him, one of which he was frowning intently at and typing furiously. His gray eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Speak for yourself. I'm busy securing each of your apartments in case one of Skye's Gothamite enemies decides to go in for the kill." He paused and looked up, sending a wink her way. "You're welcome."

She laughed lightly. "Thank you," she drawled dramatically. "Where would we be without your help?"

He cocked her head at her before turning to type in more code."Look at that, a joke. See, you're not so bad when you don't have the frigid logic bitch persona on."

"Tread lightly Connolly, that frigid logic bitch persona has kept our team, including you, alive."

"Let's not forget how many times _I've_ saved your asses by shutting down systems and locking doors?"

"I'll give you that. Now, getting back to my initial point. I have nothing to do until tomorrow."

"Uhhhh…" he murmured something distractedly under his breath about forgetting a colon. When he finally fixed his mistakes, he managed to throw a reply over his shoulder before resuming his work. "You could suit up and establish a patrol route? The files said we could help out in our cities if we wanted. Nightwing's probably off helping Bat and friends with the hot mess in Gotham, anyways. I'm getting a front row seat to it here downtown. So Blüdhaven could probably use you, especially considering that Katy, Cherilyn, and Mark are all over here in Gotham with me."

"In...in broad daylight? It's only 9am. My suit is black. Having the civilians know that I exist won't be good for when I leave."

"They were fine with one hero before. They'll deal with your loss quickly. Fake your death or something when you go back to Skye."

"The casualness of how you presented that idea is seriously concerning."

"Welcome to the Skye life, sweetheart."

"A few years too late for a welcome, isn't it?" He shrugged at her distractedly and she took that as her cue to leave.

"Well have fun with your computers. I'm logging off."

"Bye Nez~!"

Before she could reprimand him for the nickname, her screen went dark. She sighed. Wandering over to her closet, she fished around until the smooth material of her suit brushed her fingers.

 _Maybe it's not an awful idea. After all…_

She stopped and smiled.

 _By the time this is over, I can always fake my death._

His stick connected with the man's head, sending him crumpling to the ground. Kicking the thug's gun from his hand, he faced the woman he'd just saved and flashed her a smile.

"You alright?" he panted.

"Well I am now. Oh Christ, thank you so much! For a second there, I thought I was going to die! I probably shouldn't have gone down this alleyway. I don't know _how_ I'm going to explain to my boss why I'm late-" the woman rambled. A spark of anxiety appeared in her eyes at the notion.

"Hey, hey calm down. Here, can I see your phone?" He extended his hand. The woman slowly placed it in. Pivoting, He took a quick selfie with her, her shocked face appearing in the background.

"I'm sure that'll be proof enough. Would you like to be escorted to work? The whole prison breakout has everyone on edge."

 _Please say no, I'm exhausted._

"Oh heavens no, I couldn't ask you for that. I'm sure you have a lot of...saving to do."

 _Oh thank goodness._

The woman picked up her bag hurriedly and waved as she half walked, half jogged over to the crosswalk two streets over. He watched to make sure she made it before grappling up onto a building and sitting down for a quick rest. He had just enough time to regain a normal breathing pattern before something broke his peace.

"You pulled a hamstring, birdie," a low voice hummed from behind him. He jumped up and turned quickly, pulling his escrima sticks from his back. Instead of a supervillain, he came face to face with the curious face of a certain female vigilante named Étoile.

 _Well, so much for me 'seeing what she wants before approaching her'._

"Nice to see you again, too." She gave him a once over. "You've grown since we last talked."

"Time tends to do that to a person."

There was a silence as the two evaluated each other.

 _She's probably three inches shorter than me. At least I have that advantage (for once). She doesn't look to be the brute force type. Her leg muscles are more developed than her arms, so if she tries anything, go for the torso._ Years of training kicked in. He could've sworn that Batman's voice said the words instead of his own.

 _Alright, frigid logic bitch persona activated._ Her eyes flicked curiously over him. _He's definitely more lithe than I expected. Taller, too. The report said he's flexible as hell, so I'm probably not going to get away with too many forward hits. Okay then, wide sweeping blows it is. Trying to unbalance him will probably give me a couple second of distraction._

 _This all, of course, is if he attacks me at all. Which, given that I'm not exactly on his team, or any team at all, will probably- what the hell is he doing?_

Nightwing slowly lowered his sticks and set them on the ground.

"Not a very wise decision, but I'm not complaining," she muttered. She rolled her shoulder in preparation for a fight.

"I just want to talk. WIth words, I mean," he explained carefully.

"You expected me to do the cliché 'talking with my fists' thing?"

"Yes?"

"What kind of villains do you deal with?"

"Usually insane ones."

"Well I assure you that I am neither insane nor a villain."

"That's always a relief."

He had planned to dance around the conversation carefully, subtly hinting at what he wanted to know and deducing some answers from her responses. It's what Bruce had taught him to do. That plan came crashing down however, when she bluntly asked "You want to know why I'm here, right?"

He blinked from behind the mask.

 _That works, too._

"Very straightforward, aren't we?"

"I don't think this city has much time for mind games." She scanned the streets below them with an eagle's eye. "I've passed by three gang wars just from my stroll around the block looking for you. It wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be, what with your blue and black getup."

"You're not really one to talk. I see you kept with the black and gold from our first meeting." In a split second decision, he turned on the charm. He didn't want to make enemies, not now, when everything was as hectic as possible in his life.

 _Especially if I want to get her on the team. After all, it's not like Black Canary's plan is going to work now._

She shifted in the light. Strangely enough, the parts of her suit he believed were metal didn't reflect the light as metal normally would.

"What can I say," she shrugged, "it flatters me."

A soft clicking sound came from somewhere behind him. She must have noticed too, because they both tilted their heads slightly and spotted a wide eyed teenage girl three stories below them taking pictures with a polaroid. Of course.

"Shit _._ First day out here and already spotted. _"_ She debated the risk of destroying the camera. Just as she reached into her belt to pull out a throwing blade, one of Nightwing's hands grabbed it. She tossed a scalding look at him. Every muscle in her tensed.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" she hissed. He dropped his voice to a low murmur and started gently pushing her towards the opposite side of the building.

"We have to get out of here before reporters hear about this and show up. Go by rooftop. I'll be in the alleys. Just follow me. I'll get us to somewhere isolated," he whispered under his breath. His speech was authoritative and hurried. She didn't exactly take well to the authoritative part.

She bristled like a cat and he blinked in confusion.

"And I'm just supposed to believe that you aren't leading me into some sort of trap?"

He winced. He should've anticipated that.

 _Does everyone I meet need to be so stubborn?_

"Do I seem like the type to?"

"Is that supposed to be a convincing reason?"

"Just...trust me. Please. I promise we aren't going far."

Every sensible nerve in her was telling her not to trust him. All of her training told her to be wary. Her brain was good at this, she should trust it.

Too bad her interest got in the way.

She apprehensively nodded. He broke away and flipped down into the empty below them. She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the excessive flips and tricks he did on his way south. It was so different from her style, the one that did its job and nothing more. Excess energy spent was a waste, something she picked up from her time with her teacher.

She couldn't deny that it was fun to watch, though.

 _I can take him in a fight. At the very least, I could keep him occupied enough to sneak a smoke bomb and slip away. So, this shouldn't be a big risk. Breathe. You got this._

With that thought in mind, she followed the dark blur beneath her to a large bank with a huge green dome structure. He landed behind the dome and she touched down on the stone just seconds afterwards.

"I only half expected you to actually follow me. It's always nice to have someone's trust."

"Don't abuse it. Somewhere in the banter I believe I was telling you why I'm here?"

"Of course." He wasn't sure he'd like the answer. "Go ahead."

She crossed her arms and looked off into the distance, attempting to seem authentic. In reality, all of this was a practiced plan. She couldn't be cooped up with no action forever. She was a Hunter. Her _job_ was to find criminals and bring them to justice. She had just needed a viable excuse to show the superhero community.

"Blüdhaven and Gotham aren't the safest cities. I think you could've deduced that from my visit and the presence of my...coworkers in Gotham," she began carefully.

"So those people leaving criminals outside police stations tied up like Christmas presents are Skye agents?"

"Some. Not all, of course. The delivery sounds very Skye-like though." She tilted her head up at him. "You'd be surprised to see how many different sources there are for the people helping in Gotham. Most _are_ there to help, I assure you."

He studied her body language quietly. She seemed almost insecure. Uncertain. She wasn't the stubborn, blunt girl he'd seen just moments ago. He found himself wanting to believe her.

 _She could always be lying. Stay alert._

The thought made him wish he had Cass' guidance with him. She had been raised knowing only body language. She could've picked out the truth just from the way she stood.

"Are _you_ here to help?" he asked quietly.

She paused and looked down at her feet. She scratched her arms. Small movements, but meaningful ones. Ones that, hopefully, he'd buy as nervous ticks. She turned to him and mustered up the most unsure, frustrated voice she could.

"I want to. I don't want to just do _nothing_."

He didn't respond, but she wasn't worried. She knew he wasn't just going to give in on the first go.

"I, uh," she heaved a sigh here for added effect, "Skye forced me out to get experience. There's only so much training and keeping to the shadows can do. But I chose to come here because I figured that of all the cities I knew, Blüdhaven needed my help the most and...well, it had the closest thing to what I could consider a friend outside of Skye."

He softened. He knew too well the panic that set in after being kicked out of a home, the need for familiarity in those times. Bruce had inflicted that upon him when he banned him from being Robin. Black Canary's warning was not lost on him, though. He needed to know more about her than why she was here. She could very well be using him. As much as he wanted to help her help others, he knew the dangers of such a decision.

"And how long are you going to be around?"

She glanced up. She seemed dazed and uncomfortable. She clearly wasn't used to being on this side of a bargain..

"A few months at least. At the most, probably a year."

 _Long enough to be useful on the team, but also long enough to do some serious damage._ He tediously weighed the pros and cons while observing her still silhouette. No clear side won out. _Agh, I can't make this decision on my own. I may be the leader, but the team will want to know about the situation before I decide anything. Not to mention Batman._

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. There were a few moments where the air between them was still and full of anticipation. That seemed to be the constant state of conversation between them.

"I...can't say anything now. But come find me in a couple days and I might have an offer for you. Until then, stay off the streets."

She raised an eyebrow and he saw the fire in her flare up again.

"You think you can keep me from saving people?"

A wry smile fixed itself on his face. He had known her for about twenty minutes and he could already see the stubborn pride he'd always associated with Jason.

"I guess it would be dumb of me to completely ban you. Just stay low. Meet me here again at seven the day after tomorrow. And don't let anyone get you on camera, just in case."

 _A little too late for that, Wing Ding._

She nodded and turned away. She made to jump but then stopped herself and turned around. The smile she gave him was small and hesitant, but it was a smile nevertheless.

"Thank you for trusting me."

"If you don't let me regret it, I won't abuse yours."

A line shot out from her grapple and fastened itself onto the roof of an apartment. Just moments later, she was gone from view.

A deep groan of frustration escaped from Nightwing's throat once she left. He sat down and debated who to call before pressing his earpiece. It barely took a second before a female voice picked up the line.

"Oracle to Nightwing. This is a secure line. What do you need?"

"Can you connect me to Miss M? Also, send out a message to the bats* that we need to talk tonight at the castle*. I'm going to want you there, too."

"You got it. Why, is something brewing in Bϋdhaven?"

"Something like that."

"Alright...Connected to Miss Martian. Exiting call."

The line went dead before a second voice picked up.

"Miss Martian to Nightwing. Is everything alright?"

 _Miss M, concerned as ever._

"It's as alright as it normally is. Listen, I need you to use the Mountain's computer and ask the team to get together at the Mountain tomorrow. It's not a mission, I just need them all in one spot at once."

"Nightwing, are you sure everything is okay?"

"I'll explain it all when we meet up. Don't worry, M. I'm fine."

"You've said that before when you weren't fine. Seriously, if there's something wrong…"

"M'Gann," he said softly, trying to put her at ease.

"Right, okay, I'll stop hovering. See you tomorrow."

"Thank you."

The line went dead.

A scream from two blocks over caught his ear and he stood up quickly, sprinting off the rooftop and trying to pinpoint the exact location of the sound. He managed to find it a minute later. He perched on top of a windowsill and positioned himself to land on top of a mugger stalking towards a defenseless teenage boy. A wave of anger crashed over him when he realized that he was one of Tim's friends from school. There was no way he was about to let this happen. He was preparing to jump when a smudge of black and gold appeared around the corner.

Bullets were fired. She arced her back and they passed by harmlessly. An armored knee found itself buried in the attacker's gut, and they doubled over with a loud moan, collapsing on the street. Étoile tossed the teenager behind her his backpack and approached the gasping robber. There was a tilt of the head and a few words exchanged before she pulled rope out of her belt and tied his wrists together. The shaking kid behind her pulled out his cell phone at her word and called the cops. She didn't stick around to hear the call to its completion for she ran the other way, disappearing into the darkness.

"Not bad, newbie," he mumbled to himself.

He watched this all happen in a matter of seconds, surveying it all with a sort of childish fascination. He'd never seen her kind of fighting style before. It was purposeful and controlled and potentially lethal. Developed on Skye grounds, no doubt.

An intrigued smile developed on his face. She'd be an interesting person to puzzle out, no doubt. A difficult one, too.

 _But I was raised by Batman, the world's greatest detective himself._

He cracked his knuckles and stood up.

 _This is going to be a fun challenge._

* * *

 **Aster** isks: (pun fully intended)

#1= Even though it's a secure line, Dick still refers to the batfam as the bats while using the earpiece just in case

#2= The castle is the codename for Wayne Manor

So this chapter kind of wrote itself. It was strangely much easier than the last two. Maybe it's the little memory I included in the beginning, maybe it's the fact that my mainies actually interacted in this one, maybe it's because I really love writing Declan and Inès' banter and Dick's quick remarks, maybe she's born with it, maybe it's Maybelline. I don't know. R/R as always, loves, and until next chapter!

~much love, DBL

Next on ASITN: Dick meets with the bats and the Team to determine whether or not to let Étoile on the team. Inès finally starts her mission and meets her target, who seems to find flirting with the rookie way too fun.


End file.
